


Earning a Fresh Start

by Diary



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Aiden & Allison Argent, Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Allison Argent & Isaac Lahey Friendship, Allison Argent & Lydia Martin Friendship, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Allison Argent-centric, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Character of Color, Conversations, Dessert & Sweets, F/M, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Interracial Relationship, Late Night Conversations, POV Allison Argent, Past Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Post-Episode AU: s02e11 Battlefield, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Redemption, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Repost. AU. Boyd and Erica aren't taken by the alphas, and Allison struggles to make peace with them. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Earning a Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Taking a steadying breath, Allison nods to her father.

They go down into the basement, and she almost stumbles.

Erica and Boyd look at her with fearful, angry eyes, and she knows she can never make this right.

Boyd’s bloodstained shirt is covered with tiny holes.

“Allison,” her dad says.

The soft gentleness in his tone makes her prickle, and she hates how she wants to attack him.

She walks over, and as she does, she hears him cocking his gun.

First, she turns off the box. Then, she walks behind Boyd, and ignoring Erica’s increasing whimpers, she cuts the rope above his wrist. He stumbles but manages to right himself and turn to face her.

Keeping eye contact, she moves forward and quickly slices the rope around his wrists.

He pulls the gag off, and being sure to keep her knife at the ready, she walks around him and heads upstairs.

Her dad follows.

…

By the time she’s showered, the two are long gone.

…

A week before summer ends, she comes back from France.

On her first day of school, she and Boyd are assigned partners in chemistry.

Harris refuses Boyd’s request for a different partner.

She doesn’t know if this is the universe telling her she must try harder to make things right, or if it’s cruelly telling her she’ll never be able to.

Keeping her voice soft, she starts, “I was thinking-”

“I’ll take the failing grade.”

He walks away before she can respond.

…

In the cafeteria, she produces a sandwich from her purse.

“Here,” she tells Isaac.

She’s quickly learned one thing about him: He can be bribed with food.

When she came back, he hated her just as much as Erica and Boyd do, but for Scott’s sake, he tolerated her presence. Three non-PB&J sandwiches later, he smiled whenever he saw her.

Now, he happily approaches her in the halls.

Part of her hates Derek even more for this, and part of her judges Erica for the elaborate lunches Erica makes for herself and Boyd. Thankfully, Isaac is a frequent dinner guest at the McCall house, and the school gives free breakfasts.

As he attacks the sandwich, she looks over to where Erica and Boyd are eating.

“Sweetie, you need to let it go,” Lydia informs her.

“Let what go,” Isaac inquires through a mouthful of food.

Cringing at Lydia’s disdainful look, he follows Allison’s eyes. “Oh.”

She knows he’s still friends with them, but the three of them are nowhere near as close as they used to be. They want nothing to do with Scott, his acceptance of her is an even bigger divider, and she imagines there’s resentment on both sides when it comes to him choosing to stay and them trying to leave.

“You, uh, might try telling Erica that you don’t get what the big deal about the Superman remake is,” he suggests.

“Are you trying to get her killed,” Lydia demands.

Deciding not to ask whether it’s her death or Erica’s Lydia’s worried about, she opts for, “Um, Superman remake?”

“Erica is an even bigger comic book geek than Stiles is,” Lydia says. “She made Boyd camp out in front of the theatre so that she’d be sure to get prime seats.”

“She- she didn’t make him,” Isaac protests.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “Anyway, if you want to get on her good side, insulting that movie isn’t the way to do it.”

“Actually, I don’t see what the big deal about is, and I’ve never seen it,” she says. “I wouldn’t insult something I’ve never seen.”

“Trust me, she’d take you not seeing what the big deal is as a personal affront,” Lydia replies.

…

As Isaac is walking her to class, she says, “Thank you. For your suggestion.”

He shrugs.

“Would you accept an apology?”

“I already have,” he answers. “Um, I, uh, know that you helped save me when that hunter was coming to kill me. And I know you and Scott destroyed the freezer. After years of that,” he shakes his head, “being stabbed a few times is nothing. Just- I don’t care if you can do worse: if you ever hurt them again, I’ll try to hurt you.”

“Good,” she says. “I’m assuming you mean if I try to do it without just cause? Because, I’m not apologising for what I did when I was protecting Lydia.”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean. I’ve, uh, never held that against you. I know I was lucky you, Scott, and Stiles didn’t kill me and Erica.”

“That isn’t how we do things.”

They get to her class.

“See you, later,” he quietly says.

“See you, later,” she echoes.

…

“Did you do the project all by yourself, Miss Argent?”

Boyd is nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t know if he’s just avoiding the class or skipping school altogether.

Allison hesitates.

She did do all the work, and she deserves all the credit.

Boyd, Erica, and Isaac tried to kill Lydia. On the scale of attempted murder vs. wounding and kidnapping, the attempted murder is worse.

 _Would you have really stopped if your dad hadn’t broken your compound bow,_ she wonders.

She remembers the blood and how close one of the arrows came to Boyd’s heart.

“Boyd and I agreed on who would do what,” she non-answers.

Giving her a sceptical look, he nods.

…

She and Boyd sit side-by-side in front of Harris’s desk.

She can feel the tension radiating from him.

“Now,” Harris says, “yesterday, I asked if you,” he looks at Allison, “did all the work, and you implied you hadn’t. Today, I’m told,” he looks at Boyd, “you refused to do any of the work. Which is it?”

“Allison tried to talk to me, and I told her I’d take the failing grade,” Boyd answers. “I don’t know anything about the project she did.”

“Miss Argent?”

She nods.

“Why did you imply otherwise?”

“Because, it wasn’t worth it,” she answers. “Last year, things got very ugly between me and Boyd and Erica. None of us were innocent, but I should have known better. I did know better. I didn’t see how getting him in trouble would do anyone any good.”

“Do you think it was fair that, if he hadn’t told me, he would have gotten an A plus he didn’t deserve?”

“It wasn’t worth it to fight,” she repeats.

“The two of you will complete a project together, or-”

“No,” Boyd says. “I don’t care if you fail or suspend me. I won’t work with her.”

“Very well. Miss Argent, you have a month of detention ahead of you. Mister Boyd, please, come with me to the principal’s office.”

…

After school, she finds Erica and Boyd in the parking lot.

“Could we talk for just a minute?”

Erica bares her fangs, but Boyd puts a calming hand on her shoulder and steps in front of her so he’s completely shielding her body. “Talk.”

“Why’d you tell Harris?”

“I didn’t deserve that grade, and I wasn’t going to accept it.”

“We could have worked together,” she says.

He turns, and they walk away.

…

During her free period, she watches the band march around the lacrosse field. One of the girls keeps dropping her flute. Recently, another student has taken to watching the band, too, and the first few times Danny caught sight of him, he tripped. For his part, the boy tries to look cocky, but Allison can see he’s incredibly hopeful and just as interested.

Stiles sits down next to her on the bleachers. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies.

“You okay? You seem kind of depressed, lately.”

She’s not sure if she has the right to question his actions or not, but she finds herself blurting out, “Why didn’t you tell anyone about Erica and Boyd?”

“Because Derek might have involved Scott, and I didn’t want Scott to risk himself going after them,” he answers. Laughing slightly, he continues, “You know, it’s funny. In a twisted, only funny to the severely screwed up sort of way, but Boyd thinks I left them because of what they tried to do to Lydia. I didn’t. I was pissed when they tried to do it, and of course, I was freaking terrified, but I’ve always liked Boyd. Erica, it turns out, can be awesome, if mostly scary. I care about them.”

“So do I,” she answers.

He squeezes her wrist. “I know. That’s why I don’t hold it against you. You messed up. You’re still one of the good guys.”

She looks over.

“At the risk of jinxing things, the quietness has gotten hollow,” he continues. “I feel like something bad might be coming soon. Derek can’t protect them, and Scott- he’ll try, but he’ll need us. They’ll need us.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not sugar-coating what I did but forgiving me anyways,” she answers.  

“Hey, all superheroes have their big eff up moment.”

She laughs. “We’re still just teenagers, Stiles. We might have done some heroic things, but none of us are close to the genuine article.”

“I left Derek under his house,” he quietly confesses. “I didn’t know he was there, but when he was kidnapped, he took Scott’s phone. I knew he’d done it. I knew why. I still left him.”

“So did I,” she says. “Kate took me to him.”

“I know. The point is, we didn’t ask for this. There are times we’ve taken the easy way out. But we feel bad about it. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “It does. It just isn’t enough by itself.”

“Feeling better?”

She nods. “Thanks, Stiles.”

“No problem. I have to get to geometry, but I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Isn’t Coach teaching geometry this semester?”

He grins. “Yep.” Winking, he says, “The best superheroes know when they need to screw the rules and make someone’s life as miserable as legally possible.”

She laughs.

…

“Allison!”

Worried at the tone in her father’s voice, she sets down her homework and goes to the living room. “Dad?”

“Sweetheart, did you happen to order a cake?”

She sees there’s a deliverywoman standing in the door.

Walking over, she repeats, “A cake?”

Inside the clear container is a tan cake.

She feels herself recoil when she looks down at the design.

There are six wolves. Three are brown, one is black, and two are a white-yellow colour. One of the brown ones has red eyes, one has yellow, and the other has blue. The black one has yellow eyes, and the white-yellow ones have dark yellow eyes.

Then, there’s a faceless redheaded figure in a pretty, stylish outfit, a black-haired one in a leather jacket and jeans, and a brown-haired one in a red hoodie and jeans.

“Is that-” her father starts.

“Dad, pay her.”

“Allison-”

“Dad, if you want, I’ll pay you back. Just get some money and pay her,” she insists.

“Do you take credit cards?”

“Yes, sir,” is the answer. 

He goes to get his wallet, and Allison takes the cake. “Who sent this?”

“Our bakery received a delivery order from this address,” the woman answers. She digs a pad out of her pocket, taps on it a few times, and hands it over.

Her dad appears with his wallet, and Allison reads the order.

The cake was ordered the Thursday before last. It’s her favourite, peanut butter. There are several different icing flavours.

“The line for the name of the person placing the order is blank,” she points out.

“Sorry,” the woman says. “That happens sometimes, especially with our newbies. If someone hasn’t put down the delivery address, everyone notices pretty quickly, but it’s easy for everyone to overlook the lack of the name of the person placing the order.”

Allison hands the pad back so the woman can swipe the credit card.

“Honestly, we have a lot of teenagers. There’s this one blonde girl, and she makes the best toffee I’ve ever tasted, but I think she’d forget her own name if someone didn’t make sure she was wearing her nametag. Which, I guess is fair since I can never remember it myself. If this was delivered to you by mistake, I can-”

“No,” Allison says. “That’s alright. Thank you for your patience.”

Giving an unsure nod, the deliverywoman leaves.

Her dad closes the door.

Allison examines the cake.

She notices each of the humans has something near them. Stiles has a stack full of books, Lydia has lizard (she knows she shouldn’t find this funny), and she has-

A grave.

…

At Boyd’s house, a man answers the door. “May I help you?”

“I was wondering if I could talk to Boyd? I need to get a message to his girlfriend.”

Reaching over to slide the bars away, he replies, “Come in. You’re in luck. He and Erica are both in his room. Uh, what’s your name?”

“Allie,” she answers.

She doesn’t know how much his family knows about his troubles with Allison Argent, and she’d rather not be kicked out before she even has a chance to confront Erica.

“Allie, I don’t know how well you know my cousin, so, I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but would you consider talking to him about going back to school? I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but ever since he was in kindergarten, he’s been talking about going to college. To see him just give that up-” He trails off.

“I’ll talk to him,” she promises.

She’s tempted to let the grave bit go. Yelling at Erica is a good way to make Boyd hate her even more.

She steels herself.

This isn’t about a grade or having to work by herself on her project. This is about her mother.

Barging in, she starts, “You had no right-”

It takes her two seconds to process what she’s seeing, and she almost trips in leaving and slamming the door shut.

“Oh, God,” she exclaims.

It’s not as if she and Scott have never done- but privacy. She really, really, desperately did not need to see anyone, especially two kids who go to her school, doing-

A hand yanks her in, and she sees in some mild relief Erica is dressed.

Granted, Erica’s dressed in one of Boyd’s shirts, and to Allison’s horror, her underwear is visible in his desk chair, but-

“I’m sorry,” she stammers.

Boyd appears from the closet, and she’s immensely relieved to see he’s pulled on a shirt and some jeans.

Erica glares. “You know, I know I tried to get Scott to have sex with me and made cracks about stealing your boyfriend, but did I ever actually come to either of your houses and invade the room when he was-”

“I’m really, truly sorry,” Allison babbles. “I didn’t mean to. Oh, God.”

“What, haven’t the two of you ever-”

“That isn’t why I came! Just- okay, you know what, if being petty and sending a cake to attack me makes you feel better, go ahead. After this, I don’t care.”

Erica gives her a genuinely confused look, and Boyd studies her closely.

“Uh-” she shifts. “Someone sent a cake to the penthouse.”

“Okay,” Erica says. “Well, no matter how much Isaac begs, you’re definitely off my birthday list.”

“Birthday list?”

“Erica makes treats for people she likes on their birthdays,” Boyd explains.

“Or just tolerates. I still don’t particularly like Lydia, but since I did try to kill her, it’s only fair that I, at least, offer. You, however, are permanently off. I thought: You shooting arrows at my boyfriend more than makes up for me trying to seduce yours, but then, I took into consideration that I tried to kill your best friend, and Boyd was mine before we started dating. But again, I never barged in while you and Scott were having that kind of fun.”

Before Allison can formulate a response, Boyd inquires, “Why would you think Erica or I sent you a cake?”

Sighing, she pulls up the picture on her phone and explains what happened.

Erica crosses her arms. “First, I did work at that bakery until sometime during the summer. Boyd?”

Doing something on his computer, he supplies the date.

“Then, my perv of an ex-boss grabbed my breast. I flipped him onto the floor, took enough money from the register to cover what my next three cheques should be, and took a car part from his car. I thought about telling his wife, but I was afraid she might call my parents.”

Allison finds herself worried, exasperated, and reluctantly impressed.

“Second,” Erica motions towards the computer, “as you can see, most of the people working there are teenage girls. Perv boss, remember? Tell me, how many of them are blonde?”

The majority of them, Allison sees.

Pointing to a brunette, Erica says, “That’s Sienna Rae. She does make incredible toffee, and she’s one of the most absent-minded people on the planet. Her hair is naturally a pale, white-gray colour, but she’s had every colour from yours to Lydia’s, including a shade similar to mine.”

“Finally, I’m really sorry someone sent you a beautiful cake. You poor, poor thing.”

“How would you feel if you lost your mother,” Allison softly demands.

“That had better not be a threat,” Erica answers.

Boyd wraps his hands around her clawed fingers. “What does the cake have to do with your mother?"

She points to the grave.

“What? You’re the one who shot us with arrows.”

“Arrows?”

“Allison,” Boyd says, and it strikes her she’s never heard him say her name before, “we see your quiver. What do you see?”

Peering closely at her, Erica asks, “Is she?”

“A quiver is a bag for holding arrows,” Allison explains.

“Oh. Then, yeah, that’s what we see,” Erica says.

“A- grave,” she answers.

There’s an awkward silence in the room.

“This might concern us,” Boyd tells Erica. “It seems as if whoever sent this to her knows about us.”

Allison feels a sense of powerless. She knows she might have just unintentionally set them down a dangerous path. She knows she might have just made them into legitimate adversities, again.

“Probably should warn Lydia,” Erica says. “I don’t care about Stiles’s books, but I don’t like the thought of an innocent dog being hurt.”

Remembering Prada, Allison asks, “That looks like a dog to you?”

“I guess it could be a cat, but since she has that little dog, I just assumed it was that.”

“What do you see,” Boyd asks.

“I thought it was Jackson.”

“Wouldn’t he either be with you or with us?”

“A lizard,” Boyd supplies.

“Oh,” Erica grins wickedly. “That would be hilarious. I like her idea better!”

“I’m sorry,” Allison repeats. Then, she adds, “For everything.”

“You’re still not getting anything for your birthday,” Erica informs her. “And yeah, you probably don’t care, but trust me: You’re missing out. I’m going to the bathroom.”

Once Erica is gone, Boyd informs her, “I asked Derek if he bit your mom. He told me no, and he wasn’t lying. If you’d bothered to ask, you’d know that there are more werewolves in town. Some of them are alphas. If you’d bothered to ask, you’d know that your mother had Scott in a room filled with wolfs bane vapour. She was going to make it look like an asthma attack. Scott howled, and Derek came to save him. She attacked him with a knife, but he didn’t so much as even scratch her.”

Allison feels as if everything is literally spinning, and when she finally gets her bearings, she’s outside on the Boyds’ curb.

…

She considers talking to Scott, but she can’t see what good it would do.

She knows he must have had the best of intentions, but his good intentions, she’s finally willing to admit, often suck.

If he’d told her, she never would have gone after Erica and Boyd. She never would have let herself be manipulated.

Once she’d told Scott she couldn’t trust him, and in some ways, she finally, truly realises, she can’t.

“Allison?”

She steels herself and faces her father. “You were right about Scott. You and Mom were. He was all wrong for me. But you weren’t right to do what you did. Forbidding me from seeing him. Holding a gun to his head. Having me kidnapped and brought to the place where Kate killed all those people. Where she was killed. I thought- I was scared of being raped, Dad.”

“Allison,” is his hoarse reply. He moves towards her.

Moving away, she says, “No. You were wrong to do all of that. Mom was wrong. I’m not going to set out to date another werewolf. It’s actually probably a good idea that I never go down that road again. But there’s a possibility I could. If I left home right now, legally, there’s nothing you could do. I’ll be eighteen soon. If you ever try to do anything like you did again, I’ll never speak to you again. That isn’t an idle threat.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Okay.” Reaching out, he asks, “Please?”

“I need to tell you something, first.”

…

When she’s done, she lets him hold her.

“I’m so sorry.”

“We need to find out more about these alphas,” she says. “If she tried to hurt one of them- then, she made her choice. I won’t- I’ll leave them alone. But if they hurt her without cause, then, we need to do something. Not for just for her, but for everyone who can’t protect themselves.”

She feels him nod. “Allison, I’m sorry. I know I handled things wrong. I promise I’ll try to do better. But sweetheart, I want you to promise me there will be no more secrets. I can’t stand it when you lie to me.”

“You lied to me.”

“I know. Maybe I should, but I can’t bring myself to feel guilty about that. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I honestly thought I was doing the best for you. So did your mother.”

“You weren’t.”

“I know. I promise you, sweetheart, I won’t lie to you, anymore. I’ll respect your judgement unless you give me very good reason not to. All I’m asking for is the same. I’m asking you to let us put the past behind both of us. If I give you good reason not to trust me-”  

“Okay,” she agrees. Turning to him, she promises, “I won’t lie to you, and from now on, unless you give me a reason not to, I’ll trust you. I love you, Dad.”

Kissing her forehead, he says, “I love you, too.”

…

On the bleachers, she watches Danny and the other boy shyly talking to one another.

Uneasy at Stiles’s contemplative silence, she inquires, “Why do I get the feeling you already knew about this?”

“Because I’ve been working with Derek to find out more about the alpha pack,” Stiles answers. “I never believed he bit your mom. Scott couldn’t be convinced otherwise.”

“And why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I had no idea how you’d react,” Stiles answers. “There are still days I think someone should put an arrow through Derek’s head. There might come a day when that’s actually necessary. And maybe, it’ll be necessary for Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, too. But until then-”

“You have to protect them.”

“It wasn’t personal,” he says. “I lost my mom, too. And if I thought someone had killed her- I’d have done worse than anything you did. You were leaving him alone, he was leaving you alone, and I wasn’t going to rock the boat.”

The hurt spreads, quickly, but she remembers once hearing, _If you want to prove yourself, do it. Don’t whine about how you should have the opportunity._

…

When Isaac’s walking her to class, she remembers he has gym. Knowing, he can easily handle being late for it, she pulls him over to some nearby lockers and tells him what she’s learned.

“That’s why your mom killed herself?”

His tone is genuinely confused.

“What did you think had happened,” she asks.

Shrugging, he fidgets. “I thought it really was depression.”

“And you thought I’d go after you and the others because of that?”

“When- when I was little, my mom- they said it was an accident, but I’ve always been too afraid to find out if it really was,” he almost whispers. “Then, when Camden, my brother, died, I slashed a teacher’s tires. She gave me a bad grade. Uh, that’s why I did it. Because of the bad grade and my father and him, Camden, just being gone. So, yeah, I did. You lost your mom, and you had trouble with her and your dad before it happened, we tried to hurt Lydia, and I knew you and Scott weren’t talking much.”

She makes herself smile.

Then, keeping her movements slow and deliberate, she leans over to hug him.

He tentatively returns it.

…

After getting a reassurance text from Lydia confirming Erica is definitely in school, Allison goes to the Boyd house.

She’s told Boyd is working at a local fast food place.

When she goes there, they sit down in a booth. “I have five minutes.”

“Is hating me more important than your future?”

He simply looks at her.

“I’m asking sincerely.”

“I missed so much school last year because of your grandfather, I was held back,” he answers. “Erica just barely managed to avoid that. At this point, a G.E.D would look better to colleges. I’m not getting a scholarship no matter what I do. From what I understand, for the majority of the time, you tried to keep us safe from your grandfather.”

“You took a suspension because you refused to work with me.”

He toys with a napkin.

“Boyd, we’re on neutral ground. Please, just talk to me for five minutes.”

“I’ve always believed in accepting consequences of my actions,” he says. “I knew becoming a werewolf meant having to deal with hunters. We honestly believed killing Lydia was the best way to protect innocent people, but even when we were planning it, I knew killing a teenage girl would have consequences down the line. But when it comes to Erica-”

He pauses. “I’m seventeen. She’s sixteen. I never believed teenagers could genuinely fall in love. If I’m not in love with her, I’m not sure I could stand actually being in love.”

“You shot arrows an arrow into her. You said horrible things to her. You tortured her with electricity to the point she had more seizures. She still has nightmares about what you and your father and grandfather did. She tried to kill Lydia, and she did things she shouldn’t have done. I know that. I just can’t bring myself to care. All I want is for her to be safe and happy.”

“Okay,” she says. “I can work with that. Boyd, I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’ve forgiven myself as best I can, and even though you and her forgiving me would make me very happy, I don’t need it.”

“What’s your thought process for leaving her alone at school every day, where I am, when you’re here? How does she even feel about all this?”

Realising how challenging the words came out and knowing she likely doesn’t want to hear his answers, she quickly continues, “A high school diploma is always preferable to a G.E.D. If you got your grades up and went to summer school, you could probably catch up. But if you can’t, I was held back, and I already have several colleges interested in me. I’m willing to work with you on a project, Boyd. We don’t have to be friends.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t like to see anyone hurting themselves, and I especially don’t want to be the reason for someone hurting themselves.”

“I’ll think about it,” he says.

…

Sighing, she rings the bell.

Opening the door, Derek stares impassively at her. “Isaac isn’t here.”

She remembers him giving her a ride. He was quiet but seemed to go out of his way to make her feel safe. She remembers leaving him chained up in the burned remains of his house with the woman (her aunt Kate, who she thought was the one of the best people she’d ever met) who did the burning.

For all he and Scott were enemies, for all he tried to kill Lydia (if she has to shoot more arrows and use electricity, she’ll do so without hesitation to protect her best friend), she’s finally realising he’s always been there to protect Scott and the others.

She just wishes this realisation had come earlier.

“Whether you bit my mom or not, I had no right to go after the others. And I should have asked more questions. I knew my family hated werewolves, but I listened to them instead of talking to Scott or Stiles and trying to figure out if what I had been told was true. I’m-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupts. “A war is coming. If you want to involve yourself, I doubt anyone can stop you. If you fight for us, we’ll fight with you. If you fight against us, none of us, including Isaac, are going to care that you’re a grief-stricken teenage girl.”

He slides the door closed. 

Taking a breath, she continues, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry for Kate.”

The door reopens. “Don’t apologise for your aunt,” he orders. “She did what she did completely independent of you.”

“I could have done something when she had you in the basement.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” he answers. “She would have hurt you and anyone else you tried to involve.”

When the door closes again, she nods. “Right.”

She walks away.

…

Two days later, she, Boyd, and Erica are sitting in the principal’s office Harris.

“Miss Reyes,” the principal starts to say.

Allison represses a sigh.

“Her presence is important,” Harris says.

Surprised and relieved, Allison nods.

“Because?”

“We both had trouble with Allison,” Erica says.

“Very well. Have the three of you resolved your issues enough that you two can work on a chemistry project together?”

They all agree.

“And are you both willing to apologise for the disrespect you showed towards Mister Harris?”

She and Boyd answer affirmatively.

“If that’s all settled, I’d like to talk to Mister Boyd in private.”

…

The project goes remarkably well.

…

Her dad hovers in her doorway.

“Dad, what’s wrong?”

“From what I’ve been hearing, I think there might be a werewolf running around the woods.”

She stands up and starts digging out her crossbow.

“Allison-”

Keeping her tone light, she warns, “The next words out of your mouth had better be something about me not forgetting my jacket or telling me to wash the knives before packing them.”

He sighs. “Of course, sweetheart.”

…

She bumps into someone.

Spinning around with her knife aimed, she relaxes slightly when she sees it’s Boyd. “From what we understand, there’s a potentially wild werewolf running around the forest. We’re not going to hurt it, but we can’t-”

“‘It’,” Boyd repeats.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean it like-”

“I’ve been making sure she doesn’t hurt anyone,” he says, and abruptly, she notices the bloody scratches scattered across his body and his torn clothes.

“Allison!”

“Dad,” she calls, “I think the werewolf’s Erica.”

Boyd’s eyes flash as her dad appears.

“What’s going on, Boyd? You and Erica have learned to control your transformation on the full moon. Not that that matters, seeing as how the moon is nowhere near that. What triggered this?”

“Her abuela,” Boyd answers.

Her dad lets out a small noise. “I’m sorry.”

“Abuela,” she repeats. “Grandmother? Did something happen to her grandmother?”

“A heart attack,” Boyd answers.

Then, cocking his head, he jumps up onto a tree.

There’s a crash, and Allison sees in horror Erica is feral. She knows Erica would never attack Boyd the way she is now if-

“Dad, what do we do?”

“We use the Taser. Allison, listen, it’ll make her come back to human.”

“I have this under control,” Boyd hisses, though, whether it’s from anger or the fact Erica just ran her fangs over his face and stabbed his leg with one of her werewolf toenails isn’t clear.

Allison looks at her Dad.

He nods.

Aiming, she fires.

Catching the arrow, Boyd tries to shield Erica without letting go of her wrist.

By the time he realises her dad is no longer in sight, Erica is crumbling to the ground.

Her dad catches Erica before she falls, pries Boyd’s hand off her wrist, and links their fingers together as he lowers her to the ground.

Erica convulses for a long moment.

Based on the way her dad winces, she knows Erica’s grip must be painful.

“B-Boyd? Boyd?”

Erica scrambles up and runs into his arms.

Then, however, she recoils. “What- did I- Oh, no. Boyd- I didn’t- No. No. No.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Boyd tries to assure her.

Erica shakes her head, curls around herself, and shies away.

…

In the morning, she parks her car.

“I’m, uh, not sure about this,” Isaac repeats.

There’s a nosegay in the backseat with a simple, unsigned card.

_To: Erica_

_I’m sorry for your loss._

“I’m not going to go near her,” she promises. “I just need to make sure that she’s okay.”

Boyd isn’t okay, but she’ll try to help him later.

“Right,” Isaac agrees.

She hands him the nosegay. “Thank you.”

He gives her a small smile. “No problem.”

He leaves, and Allison waits.

When the family comes out, Isaac has an arm around Erica.

She’s wearing a short-sleeved black dress, black tights, and Mary-Janes. There’s a black mourning veil covering her hair, and the nosegay is in her hand. Mr Reyes opens the backdoor, and Isaac takes the nosegay and kisses Erica on the cheek. She gets in, and Isaac hands it back, closes the door, and goes around to close the driver’s door for Mrs Reyes as Mr Reyes gets into the passenger seat.

When the car drives off, Isaac comes back. “She’s very sad, but she liked the flowers. Uh, I’m not sure what’s going on with her and Boyd. She asked me to take care of him, but her mom said they’d be back by next week, at the latest.”

…

At lunch, she offers, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on? I can listen.”

Boyd shrugs. “Usually, I understand her. Sometimes, I don’t.”

“I think it’s the same for everyone.”

“I did something wrong, but I don’t know what,” he says.

 She gives him a sympathetic smile.

…

She’s at the McCall house helping Isaac with his English homework when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” she says.

She opens the door to find Boyd. In his hands is a ridiculously pink, well-worn teddy bear.

“Hey,” she greets.

“I need to talk to Isaac.”

Resisting the urge to give a sarcastic retort, she leads him to the room.

Isaac looks at the bear in confusion. “Uh, why do you have Ernesto Guevara with you?”

Allison tries to figure out why the name sounds familiar, and Boyd answers, “I need your help.”

“Che Guevara, the Marxist revolutionary?”

Boyd gives her an exasperated look. “She was six years old.”

“I named mine Mr Bear,” she offers.

Isaac takes the stuffed animal and sniffs it. “Erica’s missing?”

Boyd nods. “Her phone rings, but she won’t answer. I don’t think she’d ignore a call from me, but just in case, I’ve tried calling her home phone and from a payphone.”

She grabs her keys. “We can take my car.”

“No,” Boyd says.

“Werewolf or not, a car is faster than either of you can run, and aside from the fact neither of you have a car, even if you did, it’s not safe to try to stick your head out the window and drive. This way, you both can.”

…

They find Erica, and Allison’s heart jumps.

In one of the traps Allison and her dad set, Erica is bound by the hands. Her fingers are bloody, and through her shallow breathing, she’s trying desperately to raise herself up.

Allison shoots her crossbow, and Boyd catches Erica.

Cuddling them both, Erica murmurs, “Boyd, Ernie."

Before the relief can set, Erica jumps up and tries to claw her.

Boyd and Isaac hold her back.

“No, let me go! Obviously, she won’t be happy until I’m dead! I didn’t even do anything wrong this time! And what if a human had gotten caught? Did she or her dad ever think of that?”

“She helped us find you,” Isaac almost mumbles.

Erica scoffs and gives her a contemptuous look. “I knew I shouldn’t have reconsidered her place on my birthday list.”

“I really don’t care if you make me a cake or not,” she finds herself saying.

Tossing her hair, Erica starts to walk off.

The boys hurry after her.

“I swear, I need to find a priest who knows about werewolves,” Erica declares.

Isaac asks, “A priest?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a priest, but someone religiously ordained…”

…

Her dad pulls up and gets out. “Allison?”

She stands up. “We have to find all the traps and take them down.”

“Did something happen?”

“Erica got caught in one. And she brought up a good point: What if a human had?”

He sighs. “Right.”

…

“She goes from one extreme to another, doesn’t she?”

Allison looks up from her book. “Hmm?”

“Erica,” Lydia says. “First, it was sweaters and jeans, then, it was her trying for America’s Top Model, and now, it’s almost gothic.”

Allison looks over to where Erica and Stiles are sitting together. Erica has a black ribbon woven through her curls and is wearing a black blouse, a black skirt, white tights, and her Mary-Janes.

“She’s still mourning her grandmother,” she points out.

“This isn’t the olden days, sweetie. People don’t tend to wear black past funerals as a way of mourning.”

“Be nice,” she orders.

Lydia shrugs.

…

Things seem normal enough, but Allison realises Stiles is right.

The quiet feels hollow.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla assaults her nose, and she looks up to see Erica setting a plate of cookies down on the table. “You’re all invited to Derek’s for a strategy meeting.” Picking up, a napkin and gathering some of the cookies on them, she continues, “Where’s Scott and Stiles?”

After Lydia gives directions, Isaac asks, “Allison, too?”

“For now,” Erica answers. “My insistence on having a democratic vote hit a slight snag, but since Peter killed his own niece, it can’t be that hard to switch his allegiance.”

“You do realise that Allison has never killed anyone before, right,” Lydia demands.

Erica shrugs. “Everyone agrees Peter can’t be trusted. But her, she does something nice, and then, I end up watching my boyfriend being shot with arrows or strung up pissing myself in a basement or hanging from my wrists by a tree, and she does something nice, and everyone but me trusts her.”

Allison wonders if Boyd is included in this assessment. She hasn’t seen them around together much lately, and she hopes they aren’t having problems.

Erica walks away.

“Here.” Isaac holds out a cookie for her.

As tempting as it is, she’s not going to be responsible for Erica throwing a fit.

There are times to fight and times to let others win.

“No, thank you,” she says.

“She didn’t do anything to it.”

“Drop it.” She tries not to feel guilty when he subtly shies away from her.

…

In Derek’s loft, Scott tells her, “I know we haven’t talked much, but I was hoping-” He pauses. “I miss being your friend.”

She leans against him. “I miss that, too,” she confesses. 

“Gimme!”

Peter flies across the room.

“Erica,” Derek starts.

“He took my rosary.”

As much as Allison doesn’t object to Peter getting his ass kicked eight ways to Sunday, she wonders if she should be worried about Erica’s continuing belief she can go around physically intimating people. 

Then, she looks at Boyd, and the way he’s looking at Erica is almost too adorable.

“I was merely examining it.”

“You had a suspicious look in your eyes,” Erica insists.

“Are you even Catholic?”

As Erica and Peter bicker, Allison and Scott watch Boyd go over and put his arms around her. She leans into him even as she bares her fangs at Peter.

“I’m glad they found each other,” Scott whispers.

“Yeah, me, too,” she agrees.

Isaac sits down with a plate of bean pie, and Allison’s stomach rumbles.

She tells herself it won’t be long before Lydia’s done in the bathroom, and they can go home.

Why, some part of her suddenly demands.

As she’s trying to find an answer, she finds herself looking at Scott.

On the night of the rave, before her mother kidnapped him, she remembers begging him. She remembers being desperate to fix things and to not have him angry with her.

Later, after her mother died, she was angry with herself for being so desperate.

Even as she was defying her parents, she felt so guilty and lost. She couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t let her be happy. Whether she was right about her and Scott lasting past high school, he was a good boy, and he treated her right. Shouldn’t that be enough, she wondered. Why did they care so much about him being a werewolf, when he didn’t hurt anyone?

She told Boyd she’d forgiven herself as much as she could. She doesn’t like self-pity, she doesn’t like feeling bad about herself, and she doesn’t like being dependent on another person’s approval for her happiness.

If you want some pie, just eat it, part of her orders.

There’s a medium, another part of her realises.

“Would it be okay if I had some pie, Erica?”

Erica looks over from where she and Boyd are looking at a book. With an irritated, confused look, she answers, “It’s for everyone. I posted the ingredients over there,” she motions to a piece of paper by the pie container, “and I take no further responsibility if you end up eating something you’re allergic to.”

Giving her a small smile, Isaac hands her his plate and fork.

“Thank you,” she says.

One bite is enough to almost overwhelm her.

“Good,” Isaac inquires with a small smirk.

“This is delicious.” She reminds herself wolfing it down will detract from the experience.

…

A few days after the meeting, she comes home to find Erica leaving.

“It’s okay,” her dad says. “She just came to talk.”

“To you?”

He nods. “It’s not my place to tell you what we talked about, but I can say she’ll probably talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

“But everything’s alright?”

Smiling, he nods.

“Okay,” she agrees.

…

There’s suddenly a plate of peanut-butter swirl brownies in front her.

After looking up from her book and making sure the librarian is nowhere in sight, she sees Erica standing uncomfortably in front of her.

“We should probably talk.”

“Okay.” She motions for Erica to sit.

Sitting, Erica says, “On the day I got caught in that trap, I mentioned something about finding a priest who knows about werewolves. You said something to your dad, and he contacted Reverend Kline. She’s a vicar, and her cousin was a werewolf. Um, so, anyways, after everything that’s happened, I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be.”

Taking a deep breath, she continues, “I was wrong to try to kill Lydia and steal your boyfriend. And I’m not denying I’ve probably done other bad things to you, but if you want apologies for them, you’re going to have to tell me what else I did. I’m not turning myself into the police or telling my parents. But if there’s something else I can do to make up what for what I’ve done to you, tell me, and I’ll do it.

“It’s okay,” she says. “Just don’t do it again,” she suggests.

Erica gives her a suspicious look.

“I’m sorry for what I did, too,” she says. “I’m not sorry for protecting Lydia, but I am sorry for hunting you and Boyd down, shooting arrows, kidnapping, and torturing you both.”

Erica sighs. “I’m supposed to forgive you. But to be honest, I’m not really there. I get why you did it. I get that we’re not innocents. Boyd was supposed to keep running. It was my idea to leave. I made the decision. Now, we can’t do anything but kiss anymore, and I still look pretty, but he no longer has the super-hot girlfriend in short skirts and cleavage, and I realise that’s all my choice, but I probably wouldn’t be making these choices if it hadn’t been for all the stuff that’s happened, which includes you and your family.”

“Okay,” Allison says.

She still isn’t comfortable hearing Lydia talking about sex. Hearing the girl who she’s never been friends with talking about how she (Allison) is somewhat responsible for her lack of a sex life- she’d really like to be somewhere else right now.

“Um, you don’t need to forgive right away,” Allison says. “Look, can we both agree that we share a common enemy in the alpha pack?”

Erica nods.

“And can we both agree that Peter is a dangerous psychopath who should never be trusted?”

“Except for when it comes to clothes, makeup, shoes, and accessories,” Erica answers. “He’s very trustworthy in those areas.”

She realises it wouldn’t be tactful to point out, though this is true, it only makes him more creepy, and she’d sooner be voted most likely to join the circus than take any further advice from him. “But we can agree that when it comes to our lives and safety, to the safety and lives of friends, he’s not to be trusted?”

“Oh, totally,” Erica agrees. “We can also both agree that he absolutely deserves to have his ass kicked and be killed painfully.”

Allison almost protests, but she knows she’d just be lying. “Why don’t we start there? Just put aside everything enough so that you and I can work together to help do something about the alphas and make sure Peter doesn’t become too big of a threat. I’ve forgiven you. If you can’t forgive me, at least, we can hopefully make it out of high school on peaceful terms.”

Erica says almost too quietly to hear, “I do want to forgive you. And thank you for forgiving me. I mean that honestly.”

Reaching over, Allison breaks a brownie in half and holds out a piece towards Erica.

Erica accepts it, and they both eat quietly.

…  

Her dad insists she invite the others over for a movie night.

“Dad, you do understand that it’s not just Lydia and Stiles, right? It’s Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. They’re still werewolves, and you’re still the person who’s-” She trails off.

“I can leave if it’ll make you and them-”

“No, Mrs McCall and Deaton both feel better when there’s an adult besides Derek or Peter around,” she tells him.

“Good. Listen, sweetheart, I’m trying. This weekend, I want to tell you about a friend I had. Until then, just know that I don’t hate werewolves. I’m a little concerned, especially considering what Erica, Isaac, and Boyd tried to do to Lydia, but I trust you. If you’re getting closer to them, I want to get to know them better.”

“I’ll see if they’ll come,” she answers.

…

Everyone agrees to a movie a night.

“This isn’t some fad diet, is it,” Lydia demands.

Stiles opens his mouth.

“Shut up, Stiles,” Erica orders. “No, it’s not a diet. My baptism is in three days.”

“I haven’t seen you eat in, at least, four days,” Lydia continues. “Care to explain what baptism has to do with that?”

Realising she can’t remember the last time Erica ate, Allison looks at Scott.

“Erica,” he starts, “we’re not trying to gang up on you-”

“Good, then, let’s just watch the movie,” Erica snaps. “I have water.”

Allison looks over at Boyd, and he fidgets and looks away.

 …

When everyone’s leaving, she notices Erica’s claws have appeared.

“Boyd!” Allison calls.

There’s the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen, and Boyd is lowering an unconscious Erica to the floor.

It doesn’t take long for Erica to regain consciousness, and Allison gently shoos the others out.

“They took the bus,” Isaac says. He shakes off Scott’s hand. “I’m not sure-”

“My dad or I can give them a ride home,” she promises.

“Uh, Boyd?”

Boyd nods. “It’s okay, Isaac. We’ll be fine.”

As they go, Erica informs Boyd, “I want to leave.”

“You fainted,” he protests.

“So?”

Her dad appears with some tea. “Here, Erica, drink this.”

Erica takes a small sip, realises what she just drank, and spits it out. “No.” Setting it down, she grabs some tissues and wipes her mouth and tongue.

“Erica, you need to-”

She growls at him.

“Why don’t I take the two of you home,” Allison quickly offers.

“No,” is her dad’s firm answer. Then, in a softer tone, he suggests, “Allison, why don’t you and Boyd go- do something and give Erica and me some privacy?”

To her surprise, Boyd touches her hand and nods.

They go and wait in the kitchen.

Her dad asks, “Erica, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I fainted. That’s all. I’m fine, now.”

“Fainting is serious,” her dad says.

“Not for werewolves.”

“Have you ever known a werewolf to faint? It seems to me it would be even more serious for a werewolf.”

“I’m fine.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Four days ago.”

“Four days- Sweetie, that isn’t good. I can make you something-”

“Do you know about baptism?”

“Well, I’m not an expert on the subject, but the basics, yes.”

“In three days, I’m going to be baptised. I’m fasting.”

Allison looks over at Boyd.

“I can’t force food down her,” he says.

She considers asking why in the hell he’d even tell her about fasting, but then, she realises Erica might have learned about it from somewhere else, and even if she did learn it from Boyd, it’s not right to blame him for Erica’s decisions.

“And,” her dad continues, “while I’m not an expert on baptism, I don’t think-”

“This is important to me,” Erica fiercely declares.

“Can I?”

Allison wonders if she should risk peeking out.

“Your pulse is unsteady. I can’t hear hearts like you can, but I imagine yours is erratic. You fainted. If Lacy told you fasting is a necessary part of the process, I’m going to need to have a word with her. That is-”

“She doesn’t know anything about it, and she promised she wouldn’t talk about me with anyone.”

“Why is this important to you?”

There’s a moment of silence, and her dad says, “I’m asking sincerely.”

“For people who believe, baptism makes them new.”

“What does that have to do with fasting?”

“I’m just helping the process along.”

Body simply shakes his head.

Her dad sighs. “Erica, we’re human. Or human enough.”

There’s the faint sound of movement. “Listen to me. I’m not saying your beliefs are wrong. I’m not saying Reverend Kline is wrong. I can’t speak for what happens when we die. In life, a person can make things right; they can change their habits; they can forgive themselves; and they can even forget things they’ve done and that’ve happened to them. But they can never completely separate who they once were from who they become.”

“Because all those choices they made and everything that happened to them- at some point, in some way, that person made a choice or had something happen to them that set them down the path. A part of who they were will always have some small space in who they are.”

“So, you’re saying it’s pointless?”

“No,” her dad immediately and firmly answers, and she feels a swell of pride towards him. “No. What I’m trying to say is that Boyd is here somewhere with Allison, and the three of us care about you. The people who left here care about you. You’re making yourself sick by trying to do the impossible. Literally. You’ve done all you can do, Erica. The baptism is supposed to take care of the rest, and then, your job is figure out the person you want to be and work on becoming that. It doesn’t matter whether you have food in your system or not.”

“My grandmother fasted before her baptism,” is Erica’s stubborn reply.

“Erica,” her dad starts with a patience Allison finds herself envying, “why did you say yes to the bite?”

“Because I was sick, and it made me healthy,” Erica answers with a clear hint of challenge in her tone.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” her dad replies. “Or rather, I’m glad you have been, because, right now, no, you aren’t. You’re sixteen, and whether you’re a werewolf or a human, you need a certain amount of food on a consistent basis. Do you remember when Lydia ran around in the woods for three days? She had to stay in the hospital for about a week to deal with the damage not being able to eat did to her. You fainted, and much worse is bound to happen. Seven days- I promise you, even Derek couldn’t do that and stay in top form.”

There’s a sigh.

Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, Erica responds, “I’m sorry I spit the tea out on the carpet. Could we warm the cup up?”

Beside her, Boyd exhales, and Allison can almost feel the way his body slumps in relief.

… 

Epilogue

“Good morning, birthday girl,” Lydia teases her.

“You have that look in your eyes,” Allison mumbles. “What are you and my dad up to?”

“Who knows,” Lydia singsongs. “Want some cake balls?”

“Cake balls? The cake Dad ordered came in yesterday,” she reminds her.

“Erica and Boyd came by earlier. They left presents.”

Yawning, Allison stumbles to the kitchen.

Listening to Lydia talking about presents and the party they’ll have later, Allison looks down at the cake balls.

There’s a note.

_Happy Birthday, Allison!_

_Your friends, Erica and Boyd._

“And Boyd managed to get tonight off, so, they’ll both be there. Isaac and I’ve made sure Peter won’t come within a hundred of St. John’s. Stiles is insisting on having curly fries delivered, because, you and he are both weirdoes who think potatoes and pizza have any sort of place near one another,” Lydia informs her.

Laughing, Allison kisses her check, carefully folds up the note, and gets plates.

The cake ball tastes like a new beginning.


End file.
